Rose In Bloom
by Princess Andromeda II
Summary: In Chapter 18 of "Clockwork Prince": Jem proposed to Tessa, Tessa said yes, and then Will told Tessa that he loved her immediately after, and she had to turn him down. But what would happen if instead, Will was the one that proposed to Tessa first, and Jem told her he loved her afterward? Would Tessa say "yes" to Will, or would she turn him down and tell Jem that she loved him too?
1. The Blooming Rose

**Hi guys! This is my first fanfic for the Infernal Devices series, so please go a little easy on me! :) I really hope you like it though. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the Infernal Devices series or any other works by Cassandra Clare.**

 _To me, love isn't all. I must look up, not down,_

 _Trust and honor with my whole heart,_

 _And find strength and integrity to lean on._

\- Louisa May Alcott, _Rose In Bloom_

 **Tessa**

Tessa Gray sat on her bed, alone in her dark room, finishing off the last bit of tea and sandwiches that Sophie had brought up earlier. She felt glum, dejected, and completely worthless; she shouldn't have questioned Sophie the way that she had, about her and Gideon Lightwood. Sophie was a smart girl, smart enough to know how to handle herself, and the extra training that she and Tessa had been putting in during the mornings at the Institute certainly hadn't hurt either of their physiques. But the one thing she knew she had hurt was her friend's feelings when she'd warned her to be careful. Now she was left, glum and dejected, on the edge of her simple, wide bed, her tightly bound feet scraping the carpet below, wondering whether or not she should chase after her friend.

"I shall," she decided, whispering to herself almost silently as she stood up and crossed the room to the door. Her hand on the knob, she found herself turning to look behind her at the bedroom which, although it belonged to the Institute, had come to feel almost as dear to her as her room back in New York where she'd spent much of her life, despite this room having very little personal touches to make it hers.

She found herself hesitating to go, for whatever reason. She felt drawn to the room, compelled to wait around, to go back and sit on the bed. It seemed almost as if she were _supposed_ to say, like she should be waiting for something. Like she was waiting for some _one_.

The thought disappeared from her mind as suddenly as it had entered, evaporating into air with a wave of her hand.

 _What an absurd idea_ , she thought to herself as she opened the door and waltzed into the corridor outside her room, the dim lighting of the Institute offering a subdued glow as she glided down the hallway, her path illuminated before her.

Unfortunately, the direction that Sophie had taken was not quite as certain as Tessa had hoped. No matter which way she went, she only seemed to run into another pillar or a dead-end hallway, and Sophie was nowhere to be seen, the entire time. _I've been here for nearly three months now_ , she thought to herself as she passed a familiar-looking potted plant, possibly for the fifth or sixth time. _Shouldn't I be able to find my way around by now_? Apparently not.

At one point, she thought she heard someone calling her name, perhaps in the region towards her bedroom, but by the time that she had wound her way back to her room, whoever it was had gone, leaving no trace that he or she had been there in the first place.

With a shrug, Tessa entered her room again, having given up hope of finding Sophie for now. Perhaps the maid servant didn't _want_ to be found at the moment; she wouldn't blame her for it, after the awful things she'd said to her. She had already entered her room, the door shutting behind her, and had nearly crossed the distance to the book on her shelf that she'd been eyeing for quite some time when there was an abrupt knock on the door.

 _Certainly, it must be Sophie_ , she contemplated, seemingly frozen in place. _Perhaps she was the one who called for me earlier, and she has now come to say that she does not wish to fight with me either. I shall apologize to her right away_ , she decided as she crossed the room just as easily and quickly as before and threw open the door.

She was surprised to see that the figure standing in her doorway, looking agitated and rigid, was not Sophie, but Will. His face was pale and drawn, and his dark blue eyes were remarkably bright as they swept her body up and down, coming to rest on her gray eyes. He seemed to be looking at her differently, with an open expression on his face, his shoulders set back slightly, not squared like they usually were. He looked uncharacteristically vulnerable as he stood, huddled in the frame of her door.

A few months ago, she may not have been so surprised to see him. After all, when she had first arrived at the Institute, Will had seemed to be like any other teenage boy that she'd known back in America: rude, arrogant, stubborn, and incredibly full of himself, though he had admittedly been a bit more bitter than most she'd met before. He'd had a sort of dark aura around him, one that she likened to that of Sydney Carton from _A Tale of Two Cities_ once she'd come to know him better. Originally, she had believed that maybe there could be something between them, especially after the first kiss they'd shared, which had been an electric shock like none she'd felt before, sort of a buzz of excitement in it, like lightning. But then, when they'd kissed on the roof, he had been so cruel and heartless, she'd believed there could never be anything between them. She could never be with someone who viewed her as a monstrosity, who viewed her as an object, and not as she was: _human_ , despite any warlock or demonic qualities she might possess in her blood. Still...time had gone on, and they'd been relatively amiable, even stopping in the hall every so once in a while to share a few polite words, but it was never enough to convince her that he wanted to be anything more than friends or, as he had called them at one time, a convenient "arrangement". Though things had admittedly been better since then, they were still on that unspoken policy of only stiff, cordial talk; nothing like the few intimate bonds that they had - _could_ have - shared, had they been friends... or something more.

"Will," she said, though the word came out as more of a question. Though she didn't have to say anything, the undertoned message was clear to both: _What are you doing here_?

He gazed into her eyes, trying to communicate something, she supposed, but it seemed as though his anxiety overrode his determination, and he quickly glanced away, instead angling his head away from her face and towards the floor.

He cleared his throat nervously. "What book is that?"

Tessa glanced down, and was slightly surprised to see that she had picked up the book off of the shelf after all. Glancing at the cover, she answered " _Rose In Bloom_ , by Louisa May Alcott. I believe it was published a few years ago."

Will nodded thoughtfully, and questioned, "Louisa May Alcott... Is she the woman who wrote _Little Women_?"

"Yes." She couldn't tell what he wanted; better to keep her answers short.

"Ah." He hesitated, before continuing. "I heard that was a very good book, although I haven't read it for myself. Have you?"

"Yes."

"Is this the first book in the series?"

"No."

"Is it a sequel then?"

"Yes."

"Oh." A pause. "What is it about?"

Tessa sighed. Apparently her policy of keeping her answers short was not going to work, especially if Will was determined to talk about this as he was now. "It's about a young girl" she said warily, "named Rose. Rose Campbell."

Will chuckled, and she looked at him inquisitively, her nose scrunched up slightly. "What is so funny?"

"Sorry, it's just that... that's a _very_ clever title, isn't it?"

She smirked at him as he snorted to himself. "I suppose it is, though that's not all that important, when you have a strong character like Rose." When Will gestured at her to continue, she couldn't help but grin as she felt herself getting more animated, just by talking about the book. "She is said to be kind, beautiful, and very determined, which is one reason that I decided to read the book; her character appealed to me. Rose is a young heiress, weighed down by the fortune placed on her shoulders, and the constant mob of suitors swarming her. She struggles to decide who to marry, all while working through trying to find out who wants to marry her for her money only, and trying to discover what love really is, and who actually loves her for _her_ , and not her vast fortune." Tessa laughed, a short bark, that made Will raise his eyebrows. "Unfortunately, having a great deal of money and being swarmed by suitors are both things that I cannot relate to it. Pity."

"Do not be so sure of that," she thought she heard Will mutter.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, his face succumbing to a bright color, as red as a rose.

Tessa was not one to be easily fooled, but neither was she one to be so clueless as to not pick up on a social cue, and to know when and when not to press a matter. Thankfully, her aunt had brought her up very well in that area. Still, Tessa was running low on patience, and she felt too exhausted - both mentally and physically - to stand around like this much longer, speaking awkwardly, with clipped words, to one another.

"Will," she sighed, leaning against the door frame, phrasing the question that she had refrained from putting to words before, but which she now had no other option to ask. "Why are you here?"

In a very uncharacteristically-Will manner, the dark-haired boy seemed genuinely taken aback, before he replaced his startled signs with his usual cool, removed expression. He grabbed the book from her hand and clutched it against his chest, right over his heart like he was grasping a wound, and feigning injury. "Why, Tessa, my dear! I am hurt, truly hurt! Perhaps I just came to speak of books with you, the way that we often do." He drummed his fingers over the cover of the novel for emphasis, a suave grin plastered on his face.

Her irritation finally showing through, Tessa snatched the book from his hand, and was satisfied as a look of faint surprise replaced the devilish smirk. "Don't be silly. I know you did not come to discuss books with me, as you have not done so in the past few weeks. You have been avoiding me at every cost, ever since...Well, ever since what happened on the roof." She didn't have to say _what_ specifically; the expression on his face confirmed that he knew exactly what she meant. And she was right: he _had_ been avoiding her; at every possible opportunity, in fact: at supper time, he wouldn't look at her when she asked him to pass the marmalade, and he averted her gaze when passing her in the halls. Tessa swallowed, her eyesight becoming fuzzy with the threat of tears, "So, tell me Will: what are you doing here?"

 **Haha, sorry for that baby cliffie, but I've gotta leave something for next chapter, don't I? But this story is probably only going to have like 3 chapters in it, and I'll most likely be posting Chapter 2 next Sunday, so please check back next week! Please follow, favorite, and above all, review! (Really, it would mean so much to me.) Thank you for reading - I really appreciate it!**

 **Have a wonderful week.**

 **Love,**

 **~Princess Andromeda II**


	2. The Thriving Rose

**Hi everyone! Thank you for coming back for Chapter 2 of this story! I really appreciate everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited. Your support means so so much to me, especially since this is my first story for this fandom, though I hope and plan to do more! Okay I'll shut up now... enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the Infernal Devices series or any other works by Cassandra Clare.**

 _Keep good company, read good books, love good things,_

 _And cultivate soul and body as faithfully and wisely as I can._

\- Louisa May Alcott, _Rose In Bloom_

 **Will**

"So tell me, Will: what are you doing here?"

He gazed at her, trying to take in everything about her: her pale white skin, like marble, as fair as newly fallen snow or beams of moonlight; her exposed collarbone; the gently pulsing veins in her neck; her red, swollen lips; her intense gray eyes that carried decades of wisdom and knowledge, the normal luster of luminescence dimmed by watery tears. Although he could tell that she was very near to crying, he thought that she had never looked more beautiful.

"Tessa, I -" His mouth was open, but his heart wasn't. He couldn't tell her. He just couldn't! What if she didn't feel the same way? What would he do? There would be no going back, no falling into their normal routine of tossing insults back and forth, of quietly discussing books by the fireplace after dinner, when everyone else had gone upstairs to sleep. Who else could he do that with?

He knew he had Jem; he always had Jem. Jem was his best friend, his _parabatai_ , and would always be there for him, even if...even if he wasn't always _here_. The two boys had spent so much time together, that Jem Carstairs was like a permanent extension of Will Herondale's being. They were closer than any two boys had other been, closer than real brothers. But Tessa...

Tessa was different. She was special to him. Her natural curiosity about every little thing made him want to plop down on the ground and answer every single question she could think of. The way her eyes lit up when they talked about books, when the two of them spoke of authors as if the writers were old friends that they knew personally. Honestly, he could have sat with her all day and just listened to her talk about books. She was the only person he knew who understood how he felt, though he tried not to let it show. Up until now, that had mainly been because of the whole matter with the curse, where he'd believed that anyone who loved him was doomed to die, which also explained the incident on the roof. But he had just returned from the house of Magnus Bane, the famous warlock, where he'd discovered that the whole curse had been a lie: a trick on the part of the demon that had escaped from the Pyxis in his home when he was younger. Now he was free, free to love whoever he wanted, and free to be loved back, without fear of killing anyone as a result. He was free to tell Tessa he loved her, and free to be loved in return.

And yet...

He had spent so long pushing people away, he might not even be any good at trying to draw them in now. He loved Tessa so, _so_ much, and he wanted to tell her that. But what if he scared her off? He was afraid that if he showed her he cared too much, he would frighten her away, and he couldn't handle that. And besides, wasn't it better to just not risk it, and stay like this forever - as friends that only briefly socialized at certain times - instead of taking the chance and declaring his love for her, and ruining their friendship forever?  
No, it was better just to be safe than sorry.

And yet...

"Tessa," he whispered.

"Will," she breathed, the sound of his name on her lips sending him into overdrive; he felt a trail of goosebumps trickle down his back as they formed in a rippling wave of nerves.

"Tessa."

"You just said that," she pointed out, and he felt his cheeks light up in a brilliant scarlet hue.

"Right. Sorry. It's just - " He exhaled slowly, and passed a hand over his face in frustration. "There's...there's something I've been meaning to...to tell you."

"Yes?" she said, and he saw something change in her expression: the scowl, a mixture of distrust and disgust, looked like it had been replaced by one of hope.

 _Come on, Will_ , he told himself. _You can do this._

He took a deep breath, and he stepped closer to her. Expecting her to be repelled by this and back away, he was surprised when she actually stood her ground, and gazed up at him.

 _That's a good start,_ he praised himself, trying to get his confidence up. _Now all you need to do is to calm down. Talk about something that makes you comfortable. Something that puts you at ease._

But what do I talk about with Tessa to make me comfortable? he wondered.

 _Books_ , he thought. _Talk about books_.

"Tessa," he began, for probably around the third time, "do you remember that book you were reading earlier? _Rose In Bloom_?"

She looked confused, almost disappointed, as she answered warily, "Yes..."

"And do you remember what you said about not being able to relate to Rose, because of all her money and suitors that fawned over her?" He didn't wait for her to answer - he was really getting into it now - and continued, "Well, I've been thinking about that."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows, clearly not seeing where this was going.

"Yes, and you're wrong." He saw her eyebrows shoot up even higher, if that was possible. "Not about the money thing, because, let's both face it, you're basically broke." He watched as she frowned at him, and he couldn't help but let out a burst of sharp laughter at that. He was pleased to see a similar smile flash across her face before he went on. "But about the suitors, you're wrong there. Although you might not have scores and scores of devilishly handsome young men falling over you, you do have one man, who I can promise loves you more than any other man ever could."

He didn't think it was possible for her already-arched eyebrows to lift any higher than they already were, but somehow they managed to shoot up to the heights of a new world record, surely.

"Will," she said tentatively, "what are you -"

He cut her off, interrupting her as he held up his hand and took another step forward. "I'm not finished," he insisted, not wanting to break his streak while he still felt the words on his tongue. He dropped his hand. "I'll never be finished telling you how much I love you."

He would've laughed at her expression, at the surprised "O" shape her mouth made, had he not been so similarly shocked at the words he'd just uttered. Had he really just said that?

"Will," she repeated, and he thought he may have broken her, as she seemed unable to say anything but his name. "I had no idea. I..." She shook her head, though whether she was just dazed and overwhelmed from what he'd just told her, or that was a sign for him to stop saying these things, he didn't know. He didn't _care_ , either. He just wanted to finish telling her.

"Tessa, please," he begged as he stepped forward and grabbed her hands. He expected her to flinch away from him, but was equal-parts relieved and surprised when she didn't. Her hands were cool and stiff in his warm, sweaty palms, but he was grateful to have something - some _one_ \- to hold onto, to steady him. "Please. Let me finish saying this."

She hesitated, uncertainty in her eyes, but nodded slowly, her hands relaxing in his. He wondered if she noticed that, or if it was just a subconscious signal of defeat.

"I love you, Tessa. I love you so much. I'm sorry I had to tell you like this, so rushed and so unexpected, but I just felt like I might burst if I didn't. It's been driving me crazy for months now, and I didn't see any other way out other than to let you know. I love you. Everything about you just send me over the edge: your eyes, for example. God, your eyes. I didn't even know gray was an eye color until I met you, but they're always so big and so open, like you're curious about everything in the world; but at the same time, you carry so much intelligence and knowledge with you, I feel as though you're the oldest soul that ever walked the Earth." She opened her mouth, maybe to protest at him calling her old, but he kept going, not willing to stop for anything now. "And your wit, and your humor. Do you know how long it had been since I laughed, before you came here, to the Institute?" She shook her head, her eyes locked on his. "A long time. Only Jem could get me to smile, but nobody could ever really get to me to laugh. Nobody ever..."

He exhaled loudly, and closed his eyes to calm his racing heart. Suddenly overcome with an unshakable sense of exhaustion, like the words he'd spoken so far had drained everything else out of him. He felt Tessa step forward another couple inches as she placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to ease him, and crouched down next to him.

"It's alright," she said gently, and his eyes flew open, stunned to hear her say anything like that. Why was _she_ the one consoling him? Why was _he_ the one, overcome with emotion? And why was she having to crouch down here on the ground beside him? Shouldn't _he_ be the one getting down on one knee?

Will laughed nervously, not quite meeting Tessa's eyes, though he could feel them boring into the side of his face. "I'm...I'm usually pretty good with words, so I don't know why this is so hard for me." He looked up at her, expecting to see any sign of disgust or pity in her face, but once again being surprised by the capacity of her kindness when he saw nothing but an expression that could only be described one way: love.

"Will," she said gently, pulling him back to his feet, their faces pressed so close he could almost touch her nose with his. That one simple word, his name, spoken so softly and kindly, as if a holy mandate had been uttered by a heavenly being, was nearly enough to knock him off his feet.

 _God,_ he thought, stupefied, _how is it possible that a guy as doomed and cursed as me fell in love with an angel like her?_

She blushed, the rosey color complimenting her naturally pale complexion, and he realized that he must have asked that aloud. Now it was his turn to blush.

 _Ei wneud ar y nawr , byddwch yn ffug!_ He imagined his younger sister, Cecily, ordering him around in Welsh, her dark hair billowing around her and her blue eyes blazing. _Do it now, you dummy!_

 _Do it now._

He sank down onto one knee, managing to meet her eyes this time. Tessa, presumably believing that he was having trouble speaking and standing again, began to kneel with him, but he stopped her with a shake of his head, saying, "No, Tessa. That's not what I'm doing."

She stopped, frozen, and stared at him wide-eyed and unmoving.

"Tessa Gray," he said, confidence filling his voice for the first time that evening, "would you do the immense honor of becoming my bride?"

bride?" **OH MY SWEET GOODNESS! What will she say?! What will Will say if she says "yes"? What will he say if she says "no"? What will Jem do when he finds out about this? Only I know... Let me know what you thought with a review, please! I plan to update next Sunday like I have been doing. Thank you for reading!**

 **Have a wonderful week.**

 **Love,**

 **~Princess Andromeda II**


	3. The Wilting Rose

**Hello everyone, and thank you for returning for the third and final chapter of "Rose In Bloom". Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited. I'm gonna be quiet now and let you read. Sound good? Good. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the Infernal Devices series or any other works by Cassandra Clare.**

 _The fun and fame do not last,_

 _While the memory of a real helper is kept gree,_

 _Long after poetry is forgotten and music is silent._

\- Louisa May Alcott, _Rose In Bloom_

 **Jem**

Jem Carstairs did not consider himself to be a coward. Although he had recently become more sickly and frail, he was still able to rush head-first into a battle, his brains and his wit about him, without having to worry about his courage failing him as his strength so often did nowadays. He had always been told he had a good heart, and he believed it to be true because it was. No, James Carstairs was not a coward by any means.

And if that was so - as it was - then _why_ in Raziel's name was he having such difficulty over being able to voice one simple phrase? Even more so than his bravery, Jem had been praised for his easy way with words; true, he wasn't as gifted as letting the words flow as his _parabatai_ was, but then again, very few people on this Earth were capable of the same things as Will Herondale.

Though his heart felt weighed down by the immense burden of the words still left unvoiced, Jem felt his spirits lift - even if only ever-so slightly - at the thought of his friend.

Will Herondale. It was a name undoubtedly well-known amongst shadowhunters of that day and age: at the age of 17, Will had already made quite the name for himself throughout the London area and beyond. His dashing good looks and his skill with a _stele_ in his hand, no question about it, were quite popular, as well as his infamous antics being something for folks of all manner to be wary of. But more than that, it was common knowledge that the young Herondale was the smoothest talker in Great Britain.

Jem was distantly aware of his shoulders gently heaving with a sigh. He was completely positive that, had it been his _parabatai_ in this position, the boy would have had no trouble coming up with something halfway-decent to say to Tessa. It wouldn't have been that hard for Jem either, actually. Even right now, just sitting forward, his head supported in his hands, as he sat in an overstuffed chair by the glowing fireplace in the library, he could think of a million and one things to say, capable of all matter of words.

He could write a sonnet about the way her chocolate brown locks fell delicately down her back, or he could put together a play dedicated to the burning sensation he felt flood through his veins when her startling gray eyes met his shining silver and slanted ones. He could compose a song about the warm glow that softened her porcelain cheeks in a rosy blush when she stood to close to the fire, or he could even write an entire novel just praising the intricate mosaic of faint freckles on the back of her neck.

More than that, he nearly felt invincible when they were together. He felt as though he could do anything, anything in the whole world when he looked at her, and she returned her gaze with so much trust and faith in those gray eyes. Before Tessa had come to the Institute, things had gotten to be so bad due to the opium dependency that Jem had often considered just giving up entirely, though he had never voiced his doubts to his friends; to do so would break their opinion of them, shattering the admiration they still held for him for enduring this long. But, truthfully, if Tessa hadn't shown up when she did, he would not be sitting here right now. He owed her his life, his everything. She had told him that she earnestly believed in him, and she had so wanted to find a cure for him, encouraging him to not give up hope, that he had only stayed strong because of her. He couldn't give up, not now. To fail himself would be to fail her, and when he imagined the disappointed expression on her face if she knew some of the alternate ways out of this life...

He shuddered, just thinking about it, before before brushing aside those thoughts as he allowed his eyes to wander around the library, roaming aimlessly as they scanned the surrounding fortress of bookshelves all around him. Row upon row of books, old and new, fiction and nonfiction, stacked neatly and haphazardly. Jem breathed deeply, letting his senses take over while he closed his eyes. He liked to come here sometimes when he was feeling lost or confused, his mind scattered all over the place, because it gave him focus. Something about the room, whether it was the ancient, slightly-musky smell of worn pages or the colorful array of book covers or something greater than that, reminded him of Tessa.

No, he couldn't think about her now; if he thought too much about her, he wouldn't be able to think at all. So, instead, he concentrated once again on what exactly he should say to her. He couldn't be entirely honest with what he was thinking, because if she heard that every time she glanced at him his fingertips felt like they were on fire, that would most certainly drive her away from him.

 _Dear Tessa,_ he thought, before stopping himself with an eye roll. _Please. You're not writing her a letter, you're saying this to her face._ He tried again, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. _Tessa, I've known you for such a short period of time, and yet... No no no._ He shook aside that idea in disgust, figuring that beginning that way would only discourage her from answering his question with a yes. _Tessa, there are no words... No. Tessa, the way that you say my name makes me... No. You are the most beautiful thing - no, person - that I've ever seen, and - no. I want you to - no. I need you - no. I love - no. No. No no no no!_

Jem let out a groan of frustration, running his hands through his hair and gripping the dark locks tightly in between his fingers, trying to make the words come to him. He groaned heavily, sitting back against the chair with a loud thunk.

His aggravated moans were cut short by a polite knock on the door, and he sat up quickly, thinking that maybe it was Sophie, here to summon him to dinner. With a quick, half-hearted glance at the mantle clock's face, he could see that it was already half past seven. His stomach, too, confirmed that it was late with a low rumble resonating through his body signaling that it was time to eat, though he hadn't even noticed his hunger.

"Come in!" he called, his voice ringing out with a quiet confidence in the empty room, all noise absent save for the crackling of the pile of logs in the fire. But all confidence he may have had stowed away inside his person was immediately snatched out from beneath him when he saw the figure that tentatively crept into the library, opened the door, and shut it softly behind her.

Tessa.

"Tessa," he breathed as he stood up suddenly, feeling like a fool at the hurried manner in which he stood, though, thankfully, she didn't seem to notice the difference as she sallied forth.

"Jem!" she cried, a warm, rosy glow lighting up her face as she beamed at him in a way that could only be described as pure excitement. "I thought I would find you here. I've been looking all over for you!"

He stopped, slightly surprised. "Really?" He wasn't surprised that she had found him in here, but rather that she had been looking for him at all. He hadn't thought that it was a secret that he was in here; in fact, he hadn't meant to be hiding really, though maybe he _had_ subconsciously crept away immediately after lunch, darting throughout the hallways in an attempt so as not to be seen.

She nodded enthusiastically, saying, "Yes!" before she paused, seeming to reconsider her statement. "Well, actually, I didn't know you were in here. To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised I managed to find the library at all! I've had so much difficulty finding my way around here. I had no idea the Institute was so confusing!" she admitted with a laugh.

"You have no idea!" Jem agreed with a smile that came easily from conversing with her. Everything came easily with her, because it all just felt so... _right_.

He smiled, thinking of earlier that day when he had gone to her room to try to talk to her, but after a few moments of her not answering the door, he had gotten cold feet and had come back here to the library to try to gain his confidence back and talk himself into it again. "I've lived here for five years now, and I still have trouble figuring it all out sometimes."

She grinned with him, gazing up at him underneath long lashes. He sighed in contentment. He could have sat there for hours, just staring at her silently and taking in all her natural beauty, listening to her ramble on about nothing really.

"Jem?"

He snapped out of his reverie, realizing with a start that he must have spaced out, his eyes still unconsciously trained on Tessa. There was worry in her eyes now as she apprehended him, and he did his best to amend the awkward tension in the air.

"Tessa," he said breathily, and mentally slapped himself. _Nice going, Jem_ , he thought to himself bitterly. _Now why don't you try saying something intelligent for once?_

"Um. Right." Tessa subtly leaned away from him as she stood up, making for the door, but she did her best to rid the atmosphere of the apprehension it held as well. "Well, I had been looking for you to try to tell you that it's time for dinner, so we had best be on our way now."

She waved him forward with an encouraging hand, and he began to panic.

 _Tell her now!_ His head screamed at him. _Do it now, before you lose any confidence you gained while moping in here!_

"Tessa!" he blurted out, racing forward and causing her to raise her eyebrows in surprise. Again, he felt the urge to slap himself, but he resisted, instead saying, "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Oh," she said simply, an unreadable expression on her face. But she quickly replaced it with one of open friendliness and a willingness to talk. "Well, go right ahead."

She plopped down on the sofa facing the fireplace, playfully patting the seat cushion next to her. Jem lowered himself down slowly, never removing his eyes from her face. Her beautiful, beautiful face.

"Tessa," he began for the third or fourth time, and let the words pour out like an unplugged faucet. "I love you. I love you so, so much. I didn't want to tell you like this, right before dinner, so abruptly. I wanted there to be roses and candles and perfume and an elegant meal, but I felt like I would die if I didn't tell you. I need you, Tessa. You are the only thing that's been keeping me alive these past few months. I would be dead right now, if it weren't for you. You gave me life, and even though I'm closer to death right now than I have been in the past 17 years, I feel more alive than I have ever felt when I'm with you. And I want it to stay that way. Please, Tessa." He slid, surprisingly gracefully, off of the couch, and into a kneeling position before her, his hands stretched out before him in a pleading gesture. He pulled out his jade pendant, the one that his mother had given to him when he was young, and held it out to her in offering. "Please. Say you'll be mine. Say you'll be mine, and that we can be together forever. Tell me you love me as much as I love you. Please tell me that you need me like I need you. Because I do. I need you. I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone before, and more than I will ever love anyone ever again, Tessa."

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, but the deep breath of air did nothing to calm his racing heart. He should have been calmer, more serene, from having just lifted such a huge burden off of his frail shoulders. He should have been delighted that he'd finally told her, that he didn't have to worry about finding a chance to be alone with her anymore, that everything was honest and open now. He should have been happy that it was all over, and they could start over again together now, and make a new life together. He should have been happy.

But then he saw her face.

It was a mixture of every facial expression that he did not want to see: shock, panic remorse, anger, sadness, fright, anxiety, and, worst of all: pity.

"Jem," she whispered, and that one word, just his name, was enough to shatter every single hope he had had of the two of them ever being together.

"I see," he said, and he was distantly surprised at how cold and hard his voice sounded; nothing at all, surely, like the Jem that Tessa was used to. He could see it in her expression that she'd heard the tone, and she flinched, trying to keep a calm face. "What did I do?" He asked, his mouth bent down in a frown, his jawline set, and his teeth gritted.

"Oh, no Jem!" she cried, flinging herself down beside him. "It wasn't you! It's not you. You didn't do anything! It's just that..." She trailed off, such despair on her face, and he tried to fight the urge to feel sorry for the way he was acting.

"...that...?"

"Will has asked me to marry him," she blurted out, and if he thought his heart could have shattered anymore than it had, well, he was certainly wrong. Tessa's eyes regarded him carefully, as if watching a newborn that is sure to collapse at any moment.

He swallowed, taking more than a few seconds to respond. "What did you say to him?"

Tessa chewed her lip nervously, answering finally, "I said yes."

A hand, cool and stiff, clenched tightly over Jem's heart and refused to move. He felt broken, bent backwards, unnatural. This was not how this was supposed to go.

She seemed to think likewise. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way," she admitted, and when he looked at her, she truly did look sorry. But even that faint look of apology would not be enough to repair Jem. His heart was now broken.

Forever.

 **Hi peoples! Sorry for the abrupt cut-off. If you're reading this now, then thank-you for being so quick to read this new chapter. However, I will most likely be going back and making the ending to this chapter...** ** _better_** **. But, until then, thank you all for reading this short little trilogy! I hope you've enjoyed it, and thank you for being so supportive of my first (of many, I hope) Infernal Devices fanfic. :) Bye!**

 **Love,**

 **~Princess Andromeda II**


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